Dealing with the Death
by Sinical-Sarchasm
Summary: This is about the parents of the person who died dealing with the person's death. Don't read this if you haven't read GoF. It contains a major spoiler (i.e., who died)! It's kind of depressing. I don't think it's that good. Anyway, please read and review!


A.N. Okay, I've finally written a GoF fic, after thinking about the sad ending for three days. I can't stop thinking about ______'s death! Oh yeah, don't read this unless you've finished GoF. It contains major spoilers (such as, who dies). I hope you like it. I think its kind of depressing...it made me cry even though it was my own story. Anyway, please read and review! 

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. J.K. Rowling does. Don't sue me. 

As Cedric went into the maze, Mr. and Mrs. Diggory held each other's hands. They whispered excitedly, about how they knew Cedric would win, knew he would beat the Potter boy. It wasn't that Mr. and Mrs. Diggory hated Harry Potter. But they had spent all of his years at Hogwarts being overshadowed, beaten by someone. They couldn't do anything better then everyone. And they were determined that there son wouldn't feel that way. 

It seemed like forever, as they waited in the stands, not knowing where Cedric was, or if he had finished. The first time they saw red sparks, they were frantic, wondering, "Could it be Cedric?" But it wasn't. Cedric still had a chance. 

It seemed like ages that Mr. and Mrs. Diggory sat, waiting. It felt to them that it was forever. After what happened, they wished it really was forever. At least then they wouldn't have to face it. 

But they did. His large body, borne on Harry Potter's small one. His limp figure, defeated. It was the worst kind of defeat, for it was not merely a loss of the Triwizard Cup. It was a loss of his life. 

Mr. and Mrs. Diggory couldn't believe it at first. When they saw it, they were shocked, but they didn't think he was dead. No, just fainted, or ill, or injured. Yes, they were sad that Cedric had been defeated like this, but surely, he couldn't have died. They clung to that as their hope. But then came the inevitable words of the crowd: "He's dead." 

Mr. and Mrs. Diggory didn't want to believe it. Cedric, their only son, their hope, their joy, dead! "Their must have been a mistake, he can't be dead," they murmured to each other. But he was. 

The explanation, of how it all happened, made it no better. Why did he have to have been killed, by Lord Voldemort or anyone else? He was only seventeen. He was happy, succesful, a wonderful boy. He had a whole life ahead of him. What had he done to deserve it? What had they done to deserve it? The answer was: nothing. And that only made it worse. 

Professor Sprout talked to Mr. and Mrs. Diggory. Told them that he was a wonderful boy, fair, a loyal friend, that he always played by the rules. That he didn't deserve it. They didn't need to hear this. They knew it already. They had loved him. In each sentence Sprout said, there was a "was." He was wonderful. He was a good student. He was...before he died. 

The next day, they had to meet Harry, and it was even worse. They didn't blame him for Cedric's death. They knew he couldn't have helped him. He didn't know the cup was a portkey. He didn't want Cedric dead either. They knew that Harry had done a very heroic thing, to have brought them back Cedric's body. They knew that it was probably hard for Harry too, and tried to help him. 

At the end of their interview, Harry tried to offer them the gold he had won. But they couldn't take it. The gold would merely serve as a constant reminder, of what Cedric could have done. Could have been. That he could have given them the gold himself, if he hadn't been killed. 

The summer seemed like a time of nothingness. They went back to their home, where Cedric should have come, too. All they could think of was Cedric. Nothing else mattered, and they did nothing else. Of course, they went through the trivial details of every day life, but did it almost unconciously, not realizing what they were doing. They couldn't forget Cedric. They couldn't let him out of their brain and do something else. 

On September first, they went back to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. They knew that Cedric wouldn't be there. But they couldn't help it. They sat down on a small bench, and wept onto each others shoulders. 

Suddenly, after what seemed an eternity, but was only five minutes, they noticed a figure of a boy, blured by their tears. It was Harry Potter. 

In a trembling voice, wondering if he should say it, if it would do any good, he said, "Mr. Diggory? Mrs. Diggory?" his voice faltered. "I know you are upset about what happened, more upset than you can tell anyone. And I can't blame you. But I have something to tell you." 

Mr. and Mrs. Diggory looked up at him, holding each others hands, almost afraid of what he might say. But at the same time, they felt like they needed to talk with this boy, who was with Cedric at his death. 

"Well," Harry continued, tentatively wondering if he was saying the right thing, "I know you can't forget Cedric. And I don't want you to. He was a special boy. I never expect you to find anyone that can equal him, or take his place. But you need to get past his death. You need to get on with your lives. I got to know Cedric during the Triwizard Tournament. He was a great person. He wouldn't have wanted you to be like this. He would have wanted you to be happy." 

Mr. and Mrs. Diggory remained silent, tears still streaming down their faces. But Harry could tell that his words had gotten across to them. And, as Harry left, they both began the long path towards recovery. 

A.N.: Well, once again, please read and review. I hope you liked this. I don't think it's very good. Feel free to criticize it if you don't like it.


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